


The Remains of War

by mooseholmes



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, Nurse!Victor, Set after the bombing of Hiroshima, WWII AU, florist!yuuri
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-09-10 00:08:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8918884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mooseholmes/pseuds/mooseholmes
Summary: Yuuri Katsuki is left alone after his family and home are destroyed in Hiroshima. His road to recovery is long and arduous, but with the help of nurse Victor Nikiforov and other survivors he meets along the way, he finds that he isn't really alone after all.





	1. Chapter 1

              His plants are beautiful.

              He had red roses, magnificent cherry blossoms, blue hydrangeas, yellow chrysanthemums. People would come from different cities to buy some of his flowers. He’d give them out to passerby’s as well, especially the few tourists that came to this part of the country. He’d give each and every one of his flowers the care and attention that they needed to blossom; he’d sing to them, read out his bad poetry, tell them about each of his customers after they’d left. They sprouted, grew, and bloomed into beautiful creatures.

              His plants are beautiful.

              And now they are gone.

              Yuuri Katsuki’s plants burned in the fires of Hiroshima, the same way his shop burned, the same way his family burned. If he’d taken any of them with him on his way to Hasetsu for supplies, even one small pot or one nephew, they’d still be alive, and he wouldn’t be so alone.

              He attempted to roll over in his cot, stopping when he remembered how badly the scar on his back ached. Somehow, Yuuri managed to escape with a burn mark raging from his left shoulder to his right hip. He had seen the city go up in flames, heard the rumbles of the explosion as he turned around and started running. He ran and ran and ran, trying to un-see what had just happened to his city, to his _family_ , until the heat of the blast caught up with him. There were just flashes of memory after that: someone shouting for help, being carried on a stretcher, a needle being stuck into his arm, someone screaming when they treated the wound on his back, a soothing voice as he cried and cried and cried.

              He wanted to believe that everything was okay, that it was all a nightmare. He would wake up, and his mother would be calling him for breakfast. His father and sister would be at the table, Mari griping about one thing or another while his father nodded absentmindedly as he always did. He’d head to his flower shop, and his flowers would grow and grow and grow, and everything would be just as it always was. But as Yuuri lay in the medical tent, listening to the moans and whimpers of the other survivors around him, the nightmare settled deeper and deeper into reality.

              The war had taken a toll on everyone in Japan, and Yuuri had been glad to say that he was one of the lucky ones. He and his plants were successful in Hiroshima, and his family had been safe in Hasetsu, where no army would think to invade. Many of his friends had been drafted into the army, and many had lost more than they could account for. Looking around him in the candle-lit tent, the missing limbs and mutilated faces reminded Yuuri that he was still one of the lucky ones.

              He had been frantic when he’d first regained consciousness. He screamed, yelled, begged anyone who would listen to tell him what had happened, where he was, where his family was. The nurses around him calmed him, gave him water, and slowly unraveled the news. A bomb had been thrown on Hiroshima – an American bomb, some were saying – everything and everyone had been destroyed. Anyone in the immediate city was dead, there were no survivors. That didn’t apply to him, Yuuri thought. His shop and home were almost in the middle of the city, but that didn’t mean that his loved ones were dead. They’re still alive, he had whispered to himself over and over again, tears forming as the truth settled in more and more. The nurses had left to care for a new batch of patients streaming in from the wreckage, and the pain in Yuuri’s heart hurt more than the pain in his back.

              The memory of it brought back the waterworks as he lay in his cot. Some of the other patients had fallen asleep earlier as the night set in, but some were still awake, the mental and physical pain refusing to let them sleep. Yuuri heard a few people weeping but made no motion to ease their burden as his own tears collided with one another down his face. His hand stifled the sobs that escaped his mouth, and he shut his eyes, trying desperately to relive the memories of his mother and father over and over again.

              He let out a startled gasp when he felt a warm hand on his arm. His eyes flew open, and Yuuri’s gaze was met by that of another man. The blue eyes that Yuuri saw looking back at him gave him a sudden sense of warmth and comfort, and his tears stopped for a brief moment, allowing him to look at the entire body that kneeled next to him. The other man’s silver hair complemented his eyes, and the easy smile on his face accompanied the nurse’s outfit he wore. Everything about the man gave off a kind and safe vibe that calmed Yuuri as he and the nurse stared at each other in comfortable silence.

              The man placed his other arm on the bed and rested his head on it. “Don’t cry,” he said in a quiet voice, his Russian accent making the words sound like a melody to Yuuri’s ears.

              Yuuri sniffled. “Okay,” he whispered back, knowing the tears would come right back in a matter of time.

              “My name is Victor Nikiforov. Who are you?” Yuuri hesitated for a little too long, and the man laughed softly. “It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. Just know that whatever it is that haunts you, whatever it is that’s making you cry, don’t let it. It may seem like your world is ending, but right now you need to sleep. The burn on your back is not going to heal properly if you don’t let your body work for you, so put your demons on hold and just rest. I’m here, and I will be here for as long as you need me to. So sleep. Let your mind empty, let the pain wash away, and sleep.” He removed his hand from Yuuri’s arm and smoothed down Yuuri’s hair, his hand resting on Yuuri’s cheek. “I will be here. I will always be here.”

              Yuuri became enveloped in a sense of peace as he focused on the weight and warmth of Victor’s hand. The memories that had flooded Yuuri’s mind made their way back into their storage as Yuuri succumbed to a peaceful sleep, his last image of the day that Russian man. As he slowly made his way to the realm of sleep, Yuuri felt Victor’s hand leave and felt the Russian begin to leave his bedside. Summoning up the last of his strength, Yuuri spoke.

              “My name is Yuuri Katsuki.”

              “I’ll see you tomorrow, Yuuri.”

              Yuuri hoped he would.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back, bitches. Sorry this took so long, but here you go. Chapter 3 should arrive in the next few weeks, but bear with me here, I'm doing my best.

_Fire._

_There’s fire everywhere._

_It’s bright orange and scorching hot, and there are voices screaming all around him. “Help us, help us, help us!” They sound like his family, and he doesn’t know where to turn until one voice deafens the others:_

_“Why did you leave?”_

Yuuri woke up in a panic, knocking his pillows aside as he nearly leaped out of his cot. His heavy breathing evened out as the silence of the tent caught up with him. Covering his face with his hands, he sighed and relaxed.

              “Just a dream.” That’s all it was. That’s all it ever was, yet Yuuri could never seem to realize that in time.

              Nothing had changed in the tent over the past two weeks. A few people had succumbed to their wounds and sorrows, but everyone who was left still suffered their scars and burns. As the initial shock of the bombings died, the medical tent became quieter, and the busy bustling of doctors and paramedics began to dampen. In the silence of the night around him, Yuuri couldn’t help but wonder whether the tent and its inhabitants’ days were numbered.

              Yuuri sighed and lay back down, slowly rolling onto his side in a vain attempt to keep the pain away. He had made an attempt at friendship with the men in the cots surrounding his, and his one success had given him a companion in a Thai tourist, Phichit Choulanont, who had been caught in the unfortunate crossfire of the war. Like Yuuri, Phichit had lost his family who had come vacationing with him, but unlike Yuuri, Phichit had kept his talkative, bubbly personality. He was constantly narrating to Yuuri the inner thoughts of his mind, the workings of which were rather loud and constant (so much so that Yuuri found himself needing more frequent naps each day). Regardless of his chatter, Phichit’s heart was set in the right place, and he was always there to offer Yuuri whatever support he could give.

              But Phichit wasn’t awake now, and Yuuri was left to ponder his thoughts alone. He rolled over to his back again and stared up at the white ceiling. The week had not been easy one him. The burn on his back had, of course, healed to some extent since he had arrived at the tent, but the loneliness and weight of the nightmare he was living was settling in heavier each day. The professionals taking care of him were as cordial and helpful as they could be, attending to his every need and making sure he was comfortable with what little rations they had, but really, what could they do about the sadness in his heart? His mother, father, sister, aunt, uncle, nephew – everyone had gone up in the flames of the attack, and Yuuri couldn’t help but wish every now that he’d burned too.

              There were times when he thought he could go on. Yuuri had woken up one day, taken a look around him, and decided he would make an attempt that day. He had smiled at his nurses, even tried to make some small talk with the lovely nurse who gave him his breakfast every day. Phichit had been taken out on his daily exercise routine, and since Yuuri wasn’t allowed to leave his bed yet, he had made an attempt to talk to another patient in a cot next to him. He had said hello, but the black-haired man had stared straight ahead of him, ignoring Yuuri’s attempts to make conversation and rolling away from him when Yuuri persisted. The rejection at friendship had thrown Yuuri off, and he slipped back into his depressive mood.

              His one bright spot in the tent was the nurse from before, Victor Nikiforov. He didn’t see Victor often, but when he did, his mood elevated just a little more. Victor had come to see him the morning after they’d initially met, and he had been just as pleasant as the night before. Yuuri learned that he had come to Japan for further training as a nurse and accidentally fell in love with the country, prompting a permanent move to Tokyo. He worked the night shift at the tent, had a poodle named Makkachan (who he was incredibly fond of and wished he was here to make Yuuri happy too), and had a little brother (who was also named Yuri) who was coming up to join him in a few days.

              “Yuri doesn’t like being told he’s young,” Victor had said over lunch one day. “He’s nearly 16, almost on his way to becoming an adult, but he’s still my baby brother. He’s incredibly small, too, but don’t tell him I told you that.”

              Despite the fact that he clearly needed his rest to work through the night shift, Victor often brought Yuuri his lunch. He claimed he was only passing by the tent and wanted to do what he could to get the load off of his teammates’ hands, but Yuuri had seen him practically almost wrestle a nurse for his food tray one day, so he took his claims with a large grain of salt. Victor was an odd man, but his oddities came with a certain charm, and Yuuri appreciated every ounce of sunshine that came his way.

              He hadn’t known him for very long, but Victor was starting to grow on Yuuri. He wasn’t as open about his emotions as Victor was, but having Victor as at least one constant in his current state made Yuuri’s situation more tolerable than it initially had been. He didn’t know how long he would be staying in the tent, but the more he talked to Victor, the more he wished that his time wouldn’t end any time soon.

              Yuuri lay on his cot, the silence beginning to make him restless. It was times like these that he wished for someone to talk to, but Phichit was soundly snoring, the black-haired man was asleep (or at least pretended to be), and Victor was…Victor had better things to do than sit down and talk to him. He sighed once more and lay in his reverie, mind churning over unbidden thoughts.

              He was interrupted by the sound of soft footfalls. He lay still, unsure of the visitor’s intentions until he saw the shine of silver hair in the moonlight. He heard the man pause at Phichit’s bed before continuing on. _He’s just doing his nightly duties_ , Yuuri realized. _He’s not here to see you._

              “Yuuri, are you awake?” came a voice from behind him.

              “When am I not awake, Victor?”

              “That’s true, that’s true,” Victor laughed. Yuuri heard the light scrape of a chair being picked up before Victor came into view, said chair being planted firmly on the ground before Victor sat. “How are you tonight?”

              “I’m here, that’s enough. Aren’t you on duty?”

              “Yes, but I’ve checked on everyone already. You were last on my rounds and I’ve got a long time before sunrise, so here we are.” Victor smiled, Yuuri smiled back, and they sat in silence for a few moments before Yuuri broke stillness.

              “Victor, tell me a story.” He didn’t know why he’d said it, but the words had come out all the same.

              Victor blinked at him. “A story? What would you like to hear?”

              “Anything, whatever you feel like.”

              It was an odd request, and in the dead silence, Yuuri was about to retract his question when Victor’s eyes lit up, and he sat up with a look of triumph. “Okay Yuuri, it’s not a particularly good story, but bear with me. 

              “Before I became a nurse, I was a figure skater. I loved figure skating more than anything. The grace, the beauty, the elegance – everything about the sport pulled me in when I was five and didn’t let me go until I was eighteen. I skated almost every day of my life, and I loved every moment of it.

              “My favorite performance was the one I did for Nationals [at this, Yuuri’s eyes widened, but he kept silent and let Victor, who seemed perfectly unaware of his reaction, continue]. Each performance tells its own story, and this one told the story of a young fairy near a village in Russia. It went something like this:

 

              The fairy was young and beautiful. He was a nimble, carefree spirit, and while he loves to play tricks on his fairy kin, he had a well-meaning soul. He pranced and frolicked through the meadows and forest near a human village but never went any farther than the outskirts; he knew the laws against fairy and human interactions and had heard many a story of fairies being discovered by the humans or even worse – falling in love with a human. So he had his fun far away from the humans, never straying any closer than he needed to.  

              One day, as he was lurking about in the forest, he noticed a strange pair of eyes watching him. He snuck up behind the owner and grabbed them, bringing them into the light only to drop them like they were made of iron. A human! Both fairy and human scrabbled as far away from each other, eyeing each other with an intense fear and ferocity. Before the fairy could do anything, the human ran off, and the fairy wished he would never see the human again.

              Until he did. Every day after their meeting, the human came back, and for some reason, the fairy came back as well. They eventually talked and laughed and played in the forest together, and before long, the fairy caught himself looking at the human with a strange feeling in his chest. Every time the human smiled, laughed, or just looked at him, the fairy felt a peculiar leap in his stomach, and every time the human talked or jumped with excitement, the fairy felt a warm happiness inside. The fairy had fallen in love, and despite the years of experience ringing warning bells in his head, he couldn’t care less.

              The two fell in love, and they enjoyed each other’s company day in and day out. The fairy was the happiest he had ever been in his life; he knew now what love really was and what love really meant, and he never wanted to let go of it. One day, however, the other fairies discovered their love. No fairy could talk to a human, let alone love them, and his behavior was deemed unacceptable. He was kicked out of his home, turned away without food, water, or shelter; the fairy had nowhere to run but his lover’s village.

              His lover took him in, but when the village found out, they rose up in outrage and threatened his lover’s life. The fairy took arms against them, refusing to let them hurt his love, and the two sides warred. The battle raged until a villager managed to shoot an arrow through his wings, pinning him the ground as the villagers pounced and ripped his wings to shreds. The loss was massive, and the fairy, tired of fighting and tired of hurting and tired of hiding, saw his lover’s face one last time as he held him, and died.”

              Victor’s lilting Russian voice faded away, the last words of his story sinking into the tent’s atmosphere. He looked distant, as if the retelling of the story had brought back memories of his past, and Yuuri stared at him in a mixture of awe and sadness. Silence passed between them before Yuuri spoke.

              “Victor.”

              “Yes Yuuri?”

              “You were right.”

              “I was?”

              “That wasn’t a particularly good story.”

              Victor laughed, the sharp sound a knife in the solemn blanket around them. “I’m hurt Yuuri, I thought you would like it!”

              “No, Victor, you’re a wonderful storyteller, but why would you think a sad story would be a good one to tell to someone trying to fall asleep?”

              “That may be true, but it worked, didn’t it?”

              Yuuri made to protest against his statement, but a yawn betrayed him. He clamped his mouth shut and glared at Victor, who had proceeded into a giggling fit. His own drowsiness soon took control, however, and he found himself fighting a losing battle between keeping an angry glare at the Russian in front of him and keeping his eyes open.

              Victor’s laughter died down when he saw Yuuri’s eyes begin to close. He placed a hand on Yuuri’s cheek, smiling softly when he felt the other man relax under his touch.

              “Good night, Yuuri,” he said, making to leave.

              “Victor,” Yuuri said sleepily, stopping Victor halfway in his tracks. “I think you’d be a beautiful fairy.”

              A blush crept up Victor’s face, threatening to turn his face into a tomato, but before he could respond to his compliment, Yuuri had begun snoring ever so slightly.

              He left at dawn, the smile on his face so bright that the sun could not compete.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahahahahahahahaha well that kinda sucked. The next one will be better, promise!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it's been awhile, but it's here! Kinda short, but oh well. 
> 
> One another note, I appreciate all of your comments! They've been very helpful so far, and while I'm trying hardest to be as realistic as possible, there are just some things I won't do because I love myself (i.e. have any of the important ones die of radiation poisoning). 
> 
> Enjoy!

             “Um…”

              “Well? Say something, loser.”

              “Ummmmmm…”

              The blond before Yuuri gave him an even more agitated look before sticking a finger well inside Yuuri’s personal bubble. “Listen assbag, all I wanted to know was why you were staring at me. Are you going to give me an answer or not?”

              “You just...looked familiar? Who are you anyways?”

              “What do you mean I look familiar? You’ve never seen me before, I’d remember looking at an ugly face like yours!” the blond, who Yuuri now deemed as a Russian, yelled, the raucous noise causing the black-haired man next to Yuuri to turn around and stare at him. The blond addressed him with the same unnecessary rage. “What are you looking at, asshole?!”

              The blond and the man stared at each other with a tension that could have been cut with a knife before the man turned right back around and ignored the blond. The Russian let out a sound of dismay and was about to start another fury-filled rant when a voice called out to them.

              “Yuuuri!”

              Both Yuuri and the blond turned around and let out a cry of “Victor!”, one exasperated and the other joyous. Yuuri looked at the blond and laughed, the pieces finally clicking in his head. “Oh! You’re Yuri, Victor’s little brother!”

              “Eh, you know this guy?” Yuri asked. “And I’m not little!”

              “Yes you are, little Yuri,” Victor said, shifting the bag in his hand to ruffle Yuri’s hair as he made his arrival. “You’re the littlest of them all! How was your trip?”

              “It was fine, but you better have a decent bed or I will riot,” Yuri said, ducking away from Victor as he ruffled his hair again.

              Victor laughed. “You’re going to riot anyways, little ball of fury. Why don’t you go say hi to Mila? She’s been dying to see you ever since I told her you were coming.”

               “That old hag? Why would I want to see her, she’s so overbearing and smells like fi –“ Yuri was caught off by a loud calling of his name, and Yuuri had just enough time to see his breakfast nurse bounding over to Yuri before Yuri _screamed_ and ran off. He heard the low sound of laughing from the cots around him, and he looked over to see Phichit and a few of the other patients smiling as Yuri all but sprinted around the tent trying to escape Mila’s clutches.

               Yuuri turned back to Victor, who wore a soft smile. “Is he always like this?”

               “Oh he’s even worse when he’s tired. You should see him when he was a preteen, now _that_ was a tough couple of years,” Victor said. “How are you today? I hope he didn’t give you too much trouble.”

               “Much better now that you’re here,” Yuuri said, not noticing the faint blush rising in Victor’s cheeks. “I feel bad for him though –” he gestured to the black-haired man next to him “Yuri called him in asshole.”

               Victor frowned. “Well that’s not very nice of him. I’ll get him to apologize whenever Mila brings him back. Speaking of which, would you like lunch? There was a delicious smell coming from the restaurant below my apartment, and I thought you would appreciate this!” He pulled out a bowl of something delicious from his bag and placed it in front of Yuuri.

               Yuuri sent him a questioning look and received a smiling shrug before opening the cover to reveal a steaming bowl of fresh katsudon, and Yuuri almost cried at the sight. “Victor! How did you know?”

               “Know what?”

               “Katsudon is my favorite meal. My mother would make it every year on my birthday and on my first store opening and on my first day of school and on every special occasion.” Whatever Victor’s answer was, Yuuri didn’t hear it. He inhaled the scent of the katsudon and was transported to memories from long ago, memories he didn’t think he still had.

              He remembered the opening day of his first store.

_It was a tiny shop in the corner of Hasetsu, not too far from home but far enough to feel official. He had just finished settling his last bouquet of roses into its corner when his mother and sister burst into the shop, a minute before opening hour._

_“Why hello, Mr. Katsuki. I hear you have a fine shop from which I could purchase some flowers for my restaurant,” Mari said, fixing Yuuri with a mischievous smile as she leaned on the counter._

_“I have flowers, but unfortunately it’s before our operating hours. All sales can only be made after 8 am,” Yuuri replied._

_“Ah, but Yuuri, surely an excellent sales man like you can make an exception? For your darling sister?” She reached over and fiddled with the various pens and pencils Yuuri had laying out._

_“Darling sister? Where? I don’t see her…Mother, do you see anyone who fits that description?”_

_Their mother laughed as Mari flung a pen at Yuuri, who barely managed to avoid it as he ran around the counter to hug the both of them._

_“Thank you so much for coming,” Yuuri said as he wrapped his arms around the two women. “I really appreciate it.”_

_His mother pulled away and placed a hand on his cheek. “We wouldn’t miss it for the world. You have no idea how proud we are of you, how very lucky my father and I are to have you as our son.”_

_Yuuri smiled, tears of joy threatening to make a show before the door opened and his first official customer walked in. An elderly man, shaking off the drops of rain that were beginning to come down._

_“Go, Yuuri. We’ll be right here when you’re done.”_

              Yuuri blinked, and the smiling faces of his mother and sister faded as he made his way back into reality. Yuri was still grumbling from Mila’s affections, Victor’s katsudon was still sitting in his lap, and his family was still…gone. Tears formed in the corners of his eyes before he could stop them.

              Victor stepped closer, a look of concern falling over his face like a shadow. “Yuuri? Is everything alright?”

              He stared at the katusdon. The katsudon stared back, asking him that question over and over and over again. His mother, father, sister, everyone was gone. They had left him, and he was sitting in a hospital bed, unable to move from fear of pain. Everything had been stripped away from him in a matter of seconds, he had nothing left in this world, everything was not alright.

              And yet.

              Somehow it was.

              Healing in the tent, sitting near new found friends, holding a bowl of katsudon in his lap after weeks of terrible medical tent food. The katsudon, brought by Victor. Meeting Victor, being with Victor, even being near Victor brought him some sunshine on his rainy days. Victor, pure sweet wonderful Victor, was his beacon of light, and somehow that made everything alright.

              Yuuri looked up at Victor and smiled, a genuine smile that hadn’t come so easily in recent times.

              “Victor?”

              “Yes Yuuri?” A question in his tone but a soft smile on his face, as if seeing Yuuri smile brought one to him as well.

              “I want to walk again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is going somewhere, I promise.
> 
> Also I don't know if you guys can see the other note below this (something about episode 12), but if you can, ignore that. I don't know why that's there and I can't get rid of it ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for any inaccuracies! Here's something to take the load off of Episode 11, because I haven't recovered from it and Episode 12 is 2 days away.


End file.
